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Life Is But A Game
Cutscene: Robin

Cutscene: Robin

Cutscene: Robin

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The Batcave was in its usual state of cryptic quietude, a cathedral of silence where secrets whispered from every shadow. The lone sound was the echoing clicks of a young teenager's nimble fingers on the Batcomputer's keyboard. The place was his sanctuary; a church of technology where he felt most alive. *Or really the one place I'm not supposed to be right now,* he thought, smirking at the irony.

Technically, he was "grounded" from touching the Batcomputer or accessing the Batcave without Bruce or Alfred's surveillance after the Fog had managed to breach past WayneTech for a few seconds. He especially wasn't supposed to after his favorite butler in the world had found him snooping through files he knew Batman had locked.

Unfortunately, Alfred was out pruning the shrubs and Bruce was busy at Wayne Industries.

Which meant this little birdie was free to fly.

Screens swirled with data. He was digging, going further and deeper than he ever had, bypassing layer upon layer of security. The Batcomputer was a veritable beast, a marvel of cyber-architecture, and hacking into it felt like navigating a maze.

Zeke. Or was it Genesis?

His face flickered on one screen — that kid with glowing blue eyes, and powers that seemed to grow surprisingly fast, given where they started.

And for someone who claimed to be thirteen, he had the observational skills of a seasoned spy.

"Who the hell are you?" Richard Grayson muttered, eyes narrowing. Every time he ran a search, the results were the same: a void where a life should be.

Birth certificates? Nope. Dick pulled up school records. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

But dental? Everyone had dental records, right? "Dude's teeth are too perfect to have never seen a dentist," Robin mumbled to himself.

Yet, once again, the screen stared back with that same frustrating nothingness. Robin leaned back in the leather chair, crossing his arms. The soft glow of the computer screens lit his determined face. "Two months. And nothing before that."

It made no sense.

It's like he's a ghost? Robin pondered, rubbing his chin, looking into the abyss of unyielding data. The cave's gloom seemed to deepen around him. All he had was a single lead he found over a week ago.

A hospital in Kentucky.

A check-out form.

And that lead nowhere.

He glanced back up as the biggest lead so far caught his eye: the date on the checkout form.

Just nine days short of two months ago. "And that's all I can find of him," he muttered. The computer hummed, echoing Robin's frustrations back to him.

His gut twisted as he continued reviewing the meager data he had. *Something's not right.*

There was the clone angle — Superboy.

But Zeke didn't bear the same stilted patterns, and didn't walk with the emotional weight of genetic manipulation. He laughed at TV show references, knew all sorts of heroes old and young, muttered about game consoles, even.

"As if a lab rat would have a favorite Power Ranger team," Robin quipped, chuckling darkly to himself. Even if Dino Thunder is a lame pick compared to Ninja Storm.

The chair creaked as he leaned in, scrutinizing every bit of data he could extract from that hospital record. Allergies, blood type, even the name of the nurse that checked Zeke out. But the why, the how of his sudden existence? Nothing.

"I need more," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. His hands started to fly across the keyboard again, accessing deeper, more hidden parts of the database.

"Patience, chum," Robin muttered, echoing Bruce's words in his mind. Funny thing, stealing a line from Batman while hacking into the Batcomputer after sneaking into the Batcave. But when Batman keeps secrets... Well, desperate times, right?

Another hour seemed to blur by. Time in the cave was weird sometimes — Dick could never be sure how long or how short a stay in the darkness was unless he was paying attention.

He ran his fingers through his hair, rolling his eyes. "You really gonna do me like this, B? Just need a tiny hint."

The young Grayson paused, stretching his arms. "Come on, Bats. Don't leave me hanging," he whispered to himself. Then a chime.

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A match? Hope surged as he leaned forward in the Batchair.

But it wasn't what he was looking for. A news article, something about a purse snatching two months ago. Wait!

He leaned closer, zooming in on the newspaper clipping.

There, in the center of the crowd shot — a familiar face.

Zeke.

Plain as day.

No. It couldn't be. Two months ago, he wasn't... anywhere.

Dick leaned back, deep in thought, eyes squinting as his brain gears shifted. Two months ago? Kentucky. Purse snatching. Hospital. This guy's a human Rubik's cube.

And then it hit him: If B had this, he had to know.

Unless…

He allowed himself a smirk, "Maybe Bats is getting rusty in his old age."

"You sure about that?"

Suddenly, the dim Batcave was flooded with light, catching Robin off guard. Whipping around, Richard Grayson spun in the Batchair, but instead of the shadowy figure of Batman, there stood Bruce Wayne, in a crisp suit and tie, looking every bit the billionaire he was.

Dick's eyes widened, his facial control escaping him due to sheer surprise. "Bruce! Thought you were, you know, business-ing."

Bruce tilted his head slightly. "Robin."

Bruce's voice wasn't raised.

Not exactly.

It wasn't angry either.

It was just... Batman. Which was almost worse, really.

Dick cleared his throat, doing his best to push away his chalance. "Just... updating my Clixter status? You know, doing the whole teen thing."

One of Bruce's eyebrows arched upwards.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dick reluctantly admitted, "Okay, fine. Zeke's... confusing. And there's no manual on this."

He let out a sigh, glancing back at the screens, the data, Zeke's face. "He's a riddle, B. A question wrapped in an enigma, only harder to figure out."

"Some questions," Bruce began, "are best left unanswered."

Classic Batman, the sidekick mused internally, rolling his eyes just a touch. Going all Confucius on me. Robin exhaled, shifting in his seat. "If I'm gonna guess, you already pieced it together, huh?"

The billionaire didn't reply immediately, stepping into the light. "It's complicated. Things aren't as black and white as you'd like them to be."

"No, they're black and gray, especially in this cave," the young acrobat quipped, eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and hurt. His mentor had secrets. He always did.

Only problem is, this one felt personal. This was his team.

His teammate.

He needed to know.

Bruce frowned, and for a moment, the Batman mask slipped, showing the concerned guardian beneath. "This isn't just about revealing the truth. It's a matter of security, timing."

Dick answered that with a roll of his eyes. "Timing, secrets, riddles... just another day in the Wayne household."

Bruce's gaze intensified. "Trust is earned, not given. Remember that."

"Trust works both ways," Dick retorted, exasperation edging his voice.

They stared each other down for a few seconds, father and son looking each other in the eyes with neither being prepared to back down. After nearly half a minute, Bruce finally shook his head. "I won't stop you, if you're that persistent. Be careful what you look for. You might not like what you find."

Batman turned away but didn't make it far before Robin's voice called him back. "That's it? 'Be careful' and a vague warning? Classic Bat talk. Really helps clear things up."

The older vigilante stopped mid-stride, the weight of his presence filling the cave. Batman slowly turned, facing the defiant youth. "I keep secrets to protect those I care about, Robin," he began, voice low.

Grayson snorted, leaning back against the desk, arms crossed. "So, am I being protected, or kept in the dark?"

Bruce's eyes settled on the boy, that piercing, ever-evaluative dark gaze that never missed a detail. "Sometimes they're one and the same."

"Riddles within riddles." Dick's frustration was palpable. The shadow of the Bat loomed larger, encroaching into his personal space. "I need answers, Batman. Not more questions."

The use of 'Batman' rather than Bruce or B made the point clear. This was official, serious, not just simple curiosity at work.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked on his young ward's face. "Do you trust me?"

Dick looked away, feeling the heaviness of that question. The monitors' glow painted them both in an eerie blue, casting long, wavering shadows across the cave floor. "It's not about trust," Robin finally murmured, eyes still averted. "It's about feeling left out. Kept out. It's about feeling... alone."

There was a beat of silence, Bruce's suit rustling slightly as he approached. He placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing the sidekick's attention back to him. "You're not alone," he said with a rare touch of softness. "But there are things I need to figure out first. Things I don't want you to get entangled in."

The young Grayson looked up, a hint of indignation in his eyes. "I can handle myself, you know that."

A small smile touched Bruce's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I've never doubted your capabilities, Robin."

"That's a lie," Robin interrupted, "but go ahead."

"But there are some dangers," Batman continued without skipping a beat, "that are... different. Not everything can be fought with fists and batarangs."

"Like Zeke?" Dick leaned forward, eyes questioning.

Bruce let out a slight sigh, tilting his head to the side. "... Not exactly."

Dick's expression darkened. "So, what is he? A ghost? A spy? A villain's project?"

The cave seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Bruce's response. "I wish I had all the answers for you, but truth is, I'm still piecing it together."

The thirteen-year-old frowned. "So, why the secrecy? Why not let me in?"

"Because every time you dive into one of these mysteries, you put yourself at risk," was the reply he received as Bruce crossed his arms. "It's not just about fighting crime. It's about protecting families, identies, your life. There are forces out there that, if they knew who you really were, would stop at nothing to get to you."

The young Grayson swallowed, the weight of Batman's words sinking in. "So, you're saying Zeke is connected to one of these forces?"

"...Not quite but...," Bruce conceded after a moment of silence. "His sudden appearance, the lack of records, it's all... unusual. And in our line of work, unusual often means dangerous."

Dick nodded slowly. "So, what's the plan?"

"We investigate, but carefully," his adopted father finally said. "Together. I'll share what I know, and we'll try to figure this out. But you have to promise me something."

The sidekick raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Bruce continued, "No more going behind my back. If you have questions, concerns, you can come to me. Directly."

Robin hesitated.

But finally, he nodded. "Deal. But you gotta make the same promise."

Batman's lips quirked up into a brief smile at Robin's insistence, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned and began to walk away, shedding his suit jacket as he did so.

Robin blinked in surprise. "Hey!" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. His footsteps echoed in the Batcave as he ran after the retreating figure. "Wait! You didn't promise!"